Picky Eater
by lolzilean
Summary: Judy's most recent quest is to get her favorite orange friend to eat her favorite orange food. Unfortunately, Nick is being quite stubborn and uninterested in helping her complete her mission. Coming up with no other options, Judy has to get a little… creative.


"Nick, please."

"Nope."

Judy sighs and rests her forehead in her paws, her chin hovering over the recently emptied bowl of carrot-almond salad that she made for a quick dinner. She steals a glance at Nick's side of the dinner table, reaffirming the remnants of Nick's salad. Every morsel within his dinnerware was devoured - everything except the thinly sliced carrots that were mixed into the salad. Shifting her eyes upwards, she gave an annoyed glare at the fox across the table.

He rests one of his elbows on the table and leans into the constant barrage of radiated annoyance coming from his fluffy partner. Speaking with a heavy layer of sarcasm, "My resilience is _impenetrable_ , fluff". He grins, chiding her with half-lidded eyes. "I've never eaten carrots, and that's not changing tonight." Nick leans even closer towards Judy, reaching his paw across the table to rest it on top of hers. Lowering his voice and lacing it with a playful tone, he whispers, "You can't make me do _anything_ , bun."

Frowning in annoyance, she pulls her paws away from his and slowly rubs her temples. She exhales and closes her eyes, slumping a bit in her chair. "They're just vegetables Nick. They're not going to kill you." She opens her eyes and starts thumping her foot against the hardwood floor beside her chair. She growls through her teeth, "Just. Eat. Them." punctuating every word with a clenched fist softly hitting the table.

Nick smirks at the reaction he's able to wring out of his partner. Teasing her, getting her to the precipice of anger, and then slowly bringing her back to contentment has recently become one of his favorite activities. ' _She's so adorable when she's angry'._

He leans back in his chair, taking a sudden interest in the back of his paws. Brushing his claws through the fur on his forearm, he continues teasing, "I can't! If I eat them now I won't be able to use it as a bargaining chip later!" He lowers his voice for an overly dramatic self-impersonation, "You know Hopps, I _might just_ eat one of those carrots if you get me coffee tomorrow morning." Shifting forward and leaning over the table, his voice returns to his normal, chiding tone, "See, it's a perfect hustle!" He ends the sentence with a smile and a wink, his ears perking up to show his unwavering happiness at seeing her slightly annoyed.

Judy slumps further in her chair, her expression turning completely neutral. Her ears flop downwards as she blankly stares directly in front of her.

"Fine."

She slides out of her chair, picking up her empty bowl and bringing it to the sink. While she usually rinses it out and scrubs it clean of any residual dressing, this time, she roughly drops it into the basin. Nick flinches at the sound the porcelain makes when it clangs against the bottom.

Judy quickly makes her way from the sink to her bedroom. As she walks past Nick, she states "I'm going to bed." in a bored, monotone manner.

"Carrots, it's seven-thir-"

"I'm going. To bed."

She punctuates the final word with a moderate slam of her bedroom door. Nick's ears pin back as he finally realizes her sudden anger. Mentally kicking himself for taking _yet another_ joke too far, he begins to clean the table, bringing all of the dirty dishes towards the sink. Hoping that doing a little cleaning will brighten her mood in the morning, he decides to wash the dishes in the sink and leave them out to dry.

Continuing to think about how he'll apologize, he walks up to Judy's closed door and sighs. Slowly, he brings his paw towards the door and softly knocks. He speaks softly and cautiously, trying to show his apologetic feelings through his voice. "Carrots – I'm sorry. Can I come in?"

"..."

"Please?"

A muffled "Fine." makes it's way past the door. He lets out a sigh of relief and slowly turns the doorknob. The first thing he notices is that her normally immaculate bedsheets are now bundled up in a ball at the center of the twin-sized mattress. Walking up to the bed, he reaches his arms under the blankets to bring her into a hug. The moment his elbows pass under the collection of blankets, he feels cool metal around the bottom of his wrists, wrapping around the top and tightening with two resounding clicks. The covers untangle as a blur of gray leaps towards the two bedposts, securing the other ends of the handcuffs to the wooden poles.

"Carrots-" he struggles against the cuffs on both of his wrists, wiggling around on the bed, trying to find a weak point in the bed's restrictions, "Did you just cuff me?"

She sits on his chest, giving him a sly smirk. He glances at what she's holding in her paws. In her right, he sees a pair of keys. When he sees what she holds in her left, he opens his eyes wide and gulps, his nervousness falling like a blanket across his face. A carrot.

" _No_."

"It's called a hustle… _Sweetheart._ "


End file.
